


Pushing Boundaries (You'll Let Me In)

by RetroactiveCon



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21654025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: “Thanks for the concern, but I’m fine. Now get out of my house.”Snart raises his eyebrows. Idly, Barry notices that his eyes have gone dark. It makes heat coil in his belly, tantalizing and not entirely unwelcome. “Love to, Barry, but I’m a little pinned down. So you can let me go and I’ll get out of your hair, or…” He looks Barry over as appraisingly and greedily as he might some new treasure he’d like to steal. Barry has to brace a hand against the wall to compensate for the way his knees go weak. Why is he reacting like this, and why doesn’t he care? “You can keep me right here and be a little bad for once.”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Comments: 5
Kudos: 197





	Pushing Boundaries (You'll Let Me In)

**Author's Note:**

> Smutty episode tag for 2.09. I have no explanation other than "Barry pinning Len."

Barry returns to the house early (for him, at least). The door is locked, the lights are off, and the various festive decorations are undisturbed. He’s about to head to the bedroom for some well-deserved rest when a familiar voice purrs, “Well, if it isn’t the resilient little scarlet speedster.”

Barry whips around at superspeed and, for the second time in three days, pins Leonard Snart against the wall. Snart’s head impacts the plaster with a dull _thunk._ If it hurts, no trace of it shows in his expression. More than anything, Barry wants to wipe that teasing smirk off his face. “Why do you keep breaking into my house?”

Snart chuckles and looks up from under his lashes. “Well, this certainly isn’t giving me any incentive to stop. This little give-and-take of ours, Barry…it’s exciting.” He draws ‘exciting’ out into a low purr, smoky as whiskey with just as much of a sweet burn. Barry is acutely aware of how close they are, of the way Snart’s thighs bracket his hips, of the crisp wintry scent of the cold gun. _Damn Snart and his perpetual ability to knock him off-balance._ “Besides, I wanted to check on you. Mardon did a number on you, and if I know you, you didn’t tell your little team exactly how badly he hurt you.” 

Of course he didn’t. Why distress them when there’s nothing they can do to help? (Snart is right, though; it hurt so much that he had to take some time between arresting Mardon and returning to the team to vomit in a back alley.) “Thanks for the concern, but I’m fine. Now get out of my house.” 

Snart raises his eyebrows. Idly, Barry notices that his eyes have gone dark. It makes heat coil in his belly, tantalizing and not entirely unwelcome. “Love to, Barry, but I’m a little pinned down. So you can let me go and I’ll get out of your hair, or…” He looks Barry over as appraisingly and greedily as he might some new treasure he’d like to steal. Barry has to brace a hand against the wall to compensate for the way his knees go weak. Why is he reacting like this, and why doesn’t he care? “You can keep me right here and be a little _bad_ for once.” 

“Shut up,” Barry mutters, more in response to Snart’s knowing smirk than his words. Before Snart can respond, he smashes their lips together. 

It’s like a dam breaks. Barry realizes in the split-second their lips touch that he’s wanted to do this for a long time and that Snart has wanted it for just as long. Then he doesn’t care, because he’s licking along Snart’s bottom lip and Snart is opening up to him with a little breathy noise that might be a moan. He doesn’t fight for control, just leans back and lets Barry take what he wants. Barry is torn between wondering when he got this pushy and wondering why Snart is letting him lead. Then Snart’s fingers are in his hair, pulling just the right side of too hard, and Barry makes an embarrassing whimper-like sound in his throat and jerks his hips. 

“Ohhh,” Snart purrs with what sounds like unadulterated delight. “Now that’s interesting.” 

Snart’s hair is too short to pull, so Barry settles for biting the side of his neck hard enough to leave a bruise. “Do you ever—” he asks between worrying at tender skin with his teeth “—shut your fucking mouth?”

“Language,” Snart chuckles. His voice trembles near-imperceptibly and he rolls his head to the side to give Barry better access to his neck. “Aren’t you supposed to be child-friendly?” 

“I dunno.” Barry kicks the inside of Snart’s boot, knocking his feet wider apart so he can settle more fully between his legs. Snart’s hips jerk against his, and the friction is enough to tear a ragged moan from his throat. “Aren’t you supposed to be the one in charge? Because you seem pretty happy to let me do what I want with you.” 

Snart shoves at his chest. Barry recognizes it as an attempt to flip them and decides to let it happen. Then he’s against the wall and Snart is slotting his leg between Barry’s. The pressure is so mind-numbingly good that his eyes cross. 

“My, Scarlet.” Snart doesn’t move, just lets Barry ride his thigh. He can just muster the good sense to acknowledge that he ought to be humiliated, rutting against his nemesis like a desperate teenager. For some reason, this only turns him on more. “If I’d known you’d react like this, I’d have let you get me against a wall the first time we fought.”

Barry flips them around again at superspeed. It’s the wrong thing to do. The lightning burns through him like a high, like orgasm, and it’s all he can do to hang onto Snart while he vibrates through the best orgasm he’s had in weeks. Snart chokes out a breathless “Oh _fuck”_ and ruts desperately against him. 

Barry rides the aftershocks for a little while, shivering with each echo of pleasure and burrowing deeper into Snart’s arms. He expects Snart to push him off, but when he opens his eyes, Snart’s face is still slack with pleasure. 

“You didn’t tell me you vibrate,” he murmurs.

Barry hums in agreement. It’s why he hasn’t had sex since becoming the Flash—no one he’s dated has known, and vibrating in bed would be the wrong way to tell them. He’s tried it on himself, of course, but he hadn’t known it would feel that good with another person. 

“Well.” Snart gives a giddy laugh. “I’m gonna have to break into your house more often.” 

“Or you could just let me get hold of you on heists,” Barry blurts unthinkingly. Snart bursts out laughing. 

“You want to have me like this in a public venue, Scarlet? How unexpectedly naughty of you.” 

Barry is too high on endorphins to blush. (Nor is the thought of semi-public sex unappealing. He can deal with that revelation when Snart isn’t around to laugh at him.) “You really never shut up, do you, Snart?” 

_“Barry,”_ Snart drawls, teasing exasperation in his voice. “You just got me off against a wall. I think you can call me Len.” 

At that, Barry musters the energy to stagger away and groan in exasperation. “You know my earlier invitation to get the hell out of my house still stands.”

Snart—Len—gives him that all-too-knowing smirk, zips his parka to hide the telltale wetness in his jeans, and saunters toward the door. “And yet you won’t actually be angry if I break in again.”

No, he probably won’t. This seems like the wrong time to say so. Instead, he simply stares until Len waves a jaunty goodbye and disappears out the door.


End file.
